The Cat's Fight
by Violet 1313
Summary: Amanda Kyle is her mother's greatest secret: Catwoman kept her hidden her entire life. But when trouble strikes and her life is turned upside down, Amanda will do anything to try set the record straight. Main character OC, story is slightly AU. Rated T for violence.
1. Secrets

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of these characters.**

**Authors note: this story is slightly AU, and while at one point in actual Batman comics I think Selena did have a daughter, Amanda is OC.**

**Chapter 1: Secrets**

She slipped through the shadows so smoothly she appeared to be one herself. Even someone watching for her would have had immense trouble trying to spot her. Her dark clothes helped conceal her from any prying eyes, but the chances of anyone watching were very low: it was two o'clock on a Saturday morning and sleeping Gotham City was still and quiet.

Yet Catwoman didn't take any unnecessary risks. She paused often to double-check that no-one was watching her, and then suddenly leapt up the side of a building, swinging and flipping expertly from hand-hold to hand-hold until she slid open a window and slipped inside an apartment, shutting the window behind her.

And despite being in her own home she didn't lower her guard.

She crept forward silently into her living room, quickly searching for anything out of place. The high-backed recliner chair was the only thing that stood out. It was facing away from her, so that anyone sitting in the chair would be completely hidden from view.

Selena slipped over to the chair and quickly spun it around.

Empty.

She turned and skulked across the room, avoiding the places where she knew the floorboards were loose. She passed into the hallway and paused at an open door leading into a bedroom.

The bed was occupied, the blankets pulled over the sleeping body. Selena relaxed and let out a sigh. A gentle, motherly smile touched her lips and she stared lovingly towards the bed.

"Aww," She purred quietly in a motherly tone, "She's already in bed." And she stepped into the room.

Suddenly someone landed on her back and pulled off her mask. "I win!" a female voice cheered in a loud, triumphant whisper. Selena threw her assailant off and the 15-year-old girl flipped and landed lightly on her feet, nimble as a cat, assuming a ready stance.

"Admit it!" She demanded cheerily, albeit very quietly, blowing her bangs out of her eyes, "I've won this one, mom!"

"All right." Selena said laughingly, relaxing from her own fighting stance and leaning against the doorway, "You win Amanda." She gave her daughter a cheeky smile and added, "This time." Then she stepped forward, throwing her arms wide for a hug.

Amanda complied but couldn't resist jibing: "I'm almost as tall as you !"

Selena laughed, "Yes. Soon you'll overtake me."

"I'm counting on it." Amanda said cheekily.

"It's because your father was so tall." Selena said, then immediately regretted it.

"Mom," Amanda said, "About dad…"

"I'm sorry, Kitten," Selena interrupted, "Not now."

"But mom!" Amanda complained, "You _never_-"

"I know," Selena interrupted, "And I'm sorry, but you're not ready for it." She paused before adding, "_I'm_ not ready for it." And that ended the discussion. She threw back the blankets on her daughter's bed, revealing a pile of pillows. "Oh, I can't believe I fell for the old pillows-under-the-blanket trick!" she exclaimed.

Amanda decided to accept the not-so-subtle subject change and beamed, "Sometimes the obvious is the most unexpected."

Selena smiled at her proudly and gave her another hug before saying abruptly, "Are you hungry? I'm ravenous!"

Amanda smiled, "Not really, but I'll make you something while you have a shower.

Selena pulled a face but obliged and set off towards the bathroom.

Less than five minutes later she was sitting at the kitchen table in her bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her head as she sipped a cup of tea and nibbled on a sardine sandwich.

Her hatred for water was well-known, especially among the supervillains and she always completed her shower in record time.

Amanda on the other hand loved water and could swim like a seal. She was her mother's equal in almost all other aspects. She'd been trained to fight for as long as she could remember and as for acrobatic ability, the medals and trophies littering her room at her real home in Blüdhaven testified to that. She was hoping to go to the Olympics someday.

But if there was one skill of her mother's that she'd missed it was Selena's ability to sweet-talk her way out of any situation. Amanda preferred action or scheming.

She supposed that was from her father's gene pool as well. She couldn't know for sure, because she didn't know who her father was.

Her mother rarely spoke of him. All Amanda had been able to glean was that he was tall, dark and handsome and had blue eyes. The rest was a mystery.

She sometimes hated him, the mystery man who never showed his face.

Most times she longed for the love of a father. Moments like those came when she looked in the mirror and met those deep blue eyes of her reflection. She had her father's eyes.

Sometimes she hated it.

Most times she embraced it. It was her link to her father, she found herself searching the faces of all the men she saw, searching for that familiar, sparkling blue she saw in the mirror all the time.

She'd had no luck.

She preferred to focus on her likeness to her mother, she had the same voluminous, long black hair and a similar slight, lithe build. She was a little tall for her age and had a cat's speed and surprising strength.

Amanda suddenly snapped back to the present when she realised her mother was addressing her. "What?" She looked up guiltily, "Huh?"

Selena smiled in a motherly way and chuckled, "Go to bed, Kitten, before you nod off in the chair. Tomorrow's a big day."

She was talking about the Gymnastic Championships. If Amanda placed she'd be heading off to the State Championship.

She was hoping to go International. She had a great chance of winning. She had natural ability and had been training from a very young age. Recently she'd been tutored by a young man who lived in the same apartment block: Dick Grayson.

She's made good friends with him, and had figured out he was secretly the vigilante Nightwing. He already knew her mother was Catwoman, and she'd know about him. All three of them were excellent at keeping secrets.

Amanda felt like her existence was a secret. She'd grown up in Blüdhaven, she went to school there, Selena rented an apartment there for her daughter while she lived and worked in Gotham, hiring and nanny to care for Amanda when she was younger, but now she lived on her own a little and did a lot of travelling between the two cities to stay with her mother as often as possible. Selena often came and lived with her over the week, but when she had work to do, or 'extra work' at night, she had to stay in Gotham City, but now she was hoping to sell the apartment and have Amanda move to Gotham.

Amanda liked that idea. She didn't mind the current arrangement, but preferred to live with her mother.

She smiled wearily, once more snapping back to the present, "All right. Night Mom." She gave her mother a hug and slunk off to her room.

"Night Kitten." Selena called softly as Amanda fell into her bed, and was instantly asleep.


	2. Shattered Serenity

**Authors note: So sorry I've taken so freaking long to update! I'm on holidays now so I promise I'll try to spit out a couple of chapters for each of my stories! Please review! I love it when anyone so much as acknowledges my presence! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of these characters.**

**Chapter 2: Shattered Serenity**

The stadium was packed with a huge crowd of people, cheering and whistling as the boy accepted his trophy and took his place on the podium. Tim Drake, he was lithe and strong with dark hair and eyes, wearing a red and gold unitard.

The stadium fell into suspenseful quiet as the announcer held up the gold trophy: "And!" he barked, "This year's Regional Gymnastics Champion is:" he paused for effect and anticipative silence stretched for a few seconds before he dramatically announced: "Amanda Kyle!"

Cheers and applause erupted from the crowd as Amanda skipped forward elatedly to the podium, she leapt up the steps and accepted the trophy, holding it up proudly, beaming. People snapped photos of her and the other placers, all five of them had made it into the finals, but Amanda only recognised Timothy Drake. Most people knew him, he was the ward of Bruce Wayne and was sometimes in newspapers and whatnot, but she recognised him from previous competitions, and the fact that Dick sometimes spoke of him. In fact, from what Dick had said, she'd considered Tim the only real competition; not to butter herself up or anything.

He had done well. She grabbed his arm and pulled it up and they both held up their trophies in their other hands as they cheered back at the crowd. The applause heightened and more cameras went off.

Amanda looked and found her little posse of supporters in the crowd: her friends and fellow gymnasts from Blüdhaven were sitting with her mother. She waved, before leaning over to congratulate Tim, shouting over the roar of the crowd.

"Good job, Tim!"

"Right back at you!" he shouted back, "Maybe at the State Championship I'll finally beat you!" he said it light-heartedly, but she knew he was serious.

In a joking manner, she replied, "Good luck with that!"

"Thanks!" he replied, "I'll need it!"

She couldn't help but grin.

Soon everything was a blur of noise, faces and congratulations. Tim was swept away by his friends and Amanda found herself surrounded by her own friends. Girls from school hugged her and giggled and squealed before friends from her gymnastics squad pushed them aside and congratulated her loudly.

Someone forced his way through the crowd and patted her on the shoulder. "Good job, Amy!" Dick Grayson congratulated her.

She threw her arms around him, "Thanks! I couldn't have done it without you!"

He smiled, his eyes twinkling, "Oh I'm sure you could have." And then he was lost in the crowd as well. And then Amanda was being crushed by her mother's proud embrace as Selena raved about how well she'd done.

Later, Amanda lay on her bed surrounded by her mother's pet cats, still in her sparkling gold unitard and still grinning.

This was the best night of her life. On top of placing first and the overwhelming praise from her friends, she'd got to spend the night with her mother; going out to enjoy dinner and dessert, a very rare and special treat.

She didn't want the night to end. But it had to, and her mother came into her room to signify the event. "Hey, Kitten," Selena said, "I'm sorry, but I have to go out."

Amanda sat up to quickly she startled the cats. "What?!" she exclaimed, "Why? What for?"

Selena sat on the bed, placing one of the cats on her lap. She placed one arm around Amanda's shoulders and stroked the cat with her other hand. "I'm sorry, Kitten, but something's come up."

Amanda looked at her accusingly, "You're not 'working' are you?"

"No," Selena laughed, but there was no humour in it, "Not exactly, I'm not going thieving," she paused, "Two-Face is causing trouble. I'm going to help Batman."

"Robin will be helping Batman." Amanda complained.

"Sometimes the Dynamic Duo isn't enough." Selena said, then whispered, "But don't tell them that."

Amanda stared at her, "I can help!" She pleaded, "You know I can! You've trained me, and I can't be any younger than Robin."

"No!" Selena exclaimed, "No, stay here, go to bed. You've got school tomorrow, first day at East Gotham High, and you were up late last night." She kissed Amanda on the top of her head, placed the cat on the bed, stood up and left.

Oh, Amanda was _so_ going!

She pretended to get ready for bed, but instead of donning her faded flannel pyjamas, she pulled on some warm, dark clothes; black leggings and a hoodie. She slipped into bed, and Selena came back in, dressed in her Catwoman gear and kissed her good night.

"Good night, Kitten." She whispered, "I love you."

"Love you too, mom." Amanda whispered. Selena smiled and left.

Amanda counted to ten before slipping out of bed and raiding her mother's wardrobe, donning a pair of her mother's old boots: ones without stiletto heels – Amanda could not understand how Catwoman managed to be so stealthy wearing _stilettos_!

She raided her mother's arsenal, grabbing some gloves and a utility belt containing weapons she was familiar with: a knife, bolas, caltrops, smoke bombs and small explosive charges. She decided against a whip and pulled on her beanie and climbed out the window. She flipped over the rail of the fire escape and landed softly on the pavement three storeys below.

Amanda had lost sight of Catwoman, but she knew she hadn't been spotted either. She found herself at the far East End of Gotham, not too far from the infamous Crime Alley.

But too close for comfort to the massive fight going on down the street. Her mother hadn't been joking when she said it was too big for just the Dynamic Duo.

She _had_ been understating big time, however, when she said it was just Two-Face causing trouble: more like Two-Face and his entire gang starting a war with Penguin and his posse. Then again, knowing those two: Penguin probably started it.

Guns, explosions, fire . . . it was chaos. Sirens wailed, lights flashed and officers from the GCPD shouted at each other and the participants of the fight. Amanda saw Robin talking quickly with an officer; he spoke with animated hand gestures and a loud voice but Amanda didn't get the message. The officer did, and he turned to his men and started shouting orders as Robin jumped into the fray.

Further away, Catwoman had entered the fight and seemed to be about to confront Two-Face when Batman confronted her. He seemed less-than-pleased to see her, but didn't try to stop her. She leapt into the fight.

Amanda took a deep breath and focused herself. This is what she was trained for. She didn't want to make her presence known, so she'd fight from the shadows. It was something her mother was excellent at – if she could only keep her mouth shut and not confront every opponent for a chat.

On top of some buildings, several officers were stationed for artillery support. Unfortunately for them, several more of Two-Face and Penguins goons were fighting them as well as each-other for the vintage point. Amanda set out after them.

She took out several of Penguin's followers but was spotted by Two-Face's men when she went for one of them. All six of them focused their guns on her. She didn't wait for any warnings or orders from them, because she was sure they would come after a storm of bullets. She was right. They opened fire and she flipped and dodged her way across the short distance towards the closest man. She leapt at him, stole his gung and caught his arms; spinning him around until he was separate from the others and being used as a body shield against their fire.

They kept firing, but their aim was mostly erratic, still catching up with her. She shot each of them down before her body shield had taken three good hits. She dropped him and the gun and dashed away. She didn't know if she'd killed them, and she didn't care.

Once the vintage points were clear, it was obvious that the fight was not boding well for the heroes on the ground. Robin was battling Penguin alongside the police at one end of the street, at the other end Catwoman was mauling Two-Face. Batman was nowhere to be seen, yet everywhere at once.

And then, as if things weren't bad enough, maniacal laughter echoed through the street. Everyone froze. Joker stepped out into the open, grinning madly and chuckling. He glanced from Two-Face to Penguin and back, taking in all the damage and chaos. His grin widened, "Oooh, for me? Oh you shouldn't have!" He cried gleefully, "Such a marvellous little present." His face suddenly darkened, "No fair that you didn't invite me!" He ditched something at the ground and chaos erupted again.

Shouts of: "Get down!" and "Gas!" echoed all around and people scrambled away as thick green smoke poured into the immediate vicinity. The battle resumed and Two-Face took advantage of Catwoman's distraction to turn their fight in his favour. Their fight resumed, but Catwoman now looked to be in serious trouble.

Amanda leapt into the fight. She swiftly took down several thugs, probably more than Robin was on the other end of the alley, because unlike him she didn't care about their well-being, so she fought with whatever weapon was handy and took them down in whatever means was more efficient. She was close to her mother, closer than Batman. Catwoman didn't seem to need any help: she was outmatching Two-Face by far, but Amanda wanted to be near her mother, fight by the side of her.

Then something exploded beside her and Amanda was thrown aside. She flailed as she was weightless for a moment, before landing and rolling to absorb the impact. She found herself sprawled on her side near the edge of the fight, surrounded by smoking debris and several moaning, writhing bodies.

Amanda had a clear view of her mother's fight several yards away. Catwoman knocked Two-Face down and stood up. "If you know what's good for you," she said smoothly, "you'll stay there."

Then from behind her, Joker leapt up will a metal bar and called "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!" as he swung it at her head. She spun around and ducked under the blow before sending a devastating kick with her stiletto heel into Joker's midsection. He dropped the bar and staggered back with blood trickling out of his stomach and laughed, before pulling a knife out of his filthy purple coat and grinned. "There are so many way's to skin a cat!" he leapt at her again, laughing.

Amanda tried to sit up, but couldn't control her body, she was transfixed as Catwoman fought Joker's first few swipes off before Two-Face leapt in and socked Joker in the jaw, sending him reeling away. "Stay out of this, Clown!" Two-Face roared at him, only to have Catwoman spin around him and knee him in the stomach before elbowing him in the face. She roundhouse kicked him in the head and he went down. She spun around to face Joker just as a gunshot went off.

To Amanda, all other noise suddenly was deadened; all the shouting and the shooting dimmed as she heard that one fateful bang and blood spurted from Catwoman's chest. Amanda screamed, but no sound came out of her mouth. Catwoman fell to her knees, then toppled over as Joker stood before her, grinning and swinging the smoking pistol from his finger.

He laughed and sang, "Whoopsie daisy!" Before a Batarang smashed into it and knocked it from his grasp. Joker didn't have enough time to voice his upset before Batman himself burst out of nowhere and swiftly took the clown down.

Adrenalin and newfound energy surged through Amanda's body and she leapt up, as the Dark Knight raced to Catwoman's side. "Selena," he called and she placed a hand on his cheek.

"Bruce. . ." she whispered. "Bruce, take care . . . please, take care . . ."

Joker chuckled from behind them and stood up, grabbing a gun and aiming it at Batman.

Selena coughed, "My Kitten . . ." she whispered.

"Hey, Batsy!" Joker taunted.

With a yell, Batman spun around and leapt at Joker, moving so fast the Clown dropped the gun. He smile drooped and he mumbled, "deary me . . ." before Batman took him down.

Amanda leapt up and dashed to her mother's side, ditching smoke bombs towards Batman and Joker as she did so. She fell to her knees beside Catwoman and grabbed her mother's hand, "Mom!" she gasped, "Mom!"

Selena coughed and gasped at her, "Amanda, what are you-"

"Mom! Come on, I'm getting you out of here! I'll get you help!" She helped her mother stand up and supported her. Without even thinking, she started to run. Surprisingly, her mother managed well enough. She started off all right, and it wasn't far to their apartment – but as they neared the apartment, she started to limp, then she was gasping for breath and Amanda was supporting almost all her weight. Amanda carried her up the fire escape and helped her through the window.

By this time, Selena was barely conscious. Amanda rushed for a first aid kit and quickly started to treat her mother's wound, but Selena seemed to be slipping away. Amanda ripped off her mother's mask and held her face, "Mom!" she yelled, "Please, Mom! Hold on, please!" Amanda ran and grabbed the phone but it wouldn't work. She tried to flick on the lights but got nothing. She rushed back to her mother's side, "Mom, the power's out, what do I do!" she cried, "Mom, what do I do!"

She hugged her mother and tried to staunch the flow of blood, but Selena's breathing was getting shallower and shallower. "Mom!" Amanda cried frantically.

"Amanda," Selena breathed, "You did the right thing,"

"No!" Amanda cried, panicking "I should have left you there, they could have called an ambulance from there! They could have – it's my fault!"

Selena grabbed Amanda's hand in a surprisingly strong grip. "No!" she said firmly, "Amanda, Kitten . . . they wouldn't have come in time, I could have been shot again . . . it's a war zone out there . . ."

"Mom," Amanda choked, "Mom, I should have done something better, I-"

"No, Kitten." Selena purred, "I'm proud of you. You did the only thing you could."

Amanda burst into tears. "There's got to be another way! I need to find a way to call an Ambulance!" She stood up but Selena caught her hand.

"Amanda, I need to tell you something." Amanda forced herself to kneel down again, tears dripping off her face. Selena caught her cheek in her hand and tenderly brushed the tears aside.

"Amanda," Selena gasped, "your father . . . your father is Batman."


	3. Father

**Authors note: So sorry it's taken me so long to update. I've been meaning to update both my stories but it's slow going. I'll try to spit out a few chapters ASAP.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of these characters.**

**Chapter 3: Father**

The doorbell buzzed loudly and Bruce Wayne absently straightened his shirt, hoping Selena would hurry up and open the door, yet something told him he wouldn't see her today.

Nor ever again.

He forced the thought aside and dared to hope, wishing that anyone would open the door, wishing that he wouldn't go in himself and find Selena's lifeless body. He knew she was strong, she refused to die, she could just be resting up: after all, it was barely six in the morning.

Bruce rung the bell once more before deciding he was wasting too much time. He'd just dug his lock-pick out of his pocket when the door opened a crack and a bloodshot eye stared up at him. A startlingly familiar, sparkling blue eye. An eye which did not belong to Selena, yet still glared at him with a flicker of recognition before a young, female voice abruptly asked: "Were you going to pick the lock?"

Somewhat shocked, Bruce shoved the pick into his pocket. "Good morning," he greeted her, electing to ignore her inquiry. "I'm Bruce-"

"I know who you are." She snapped, "What do you want?"

He frowned, "Who are you?" he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I live here. Now state your business or get out." She moved to shut the door.

Bruce caught it, "Where's Selena Kyle?"

The girl glared at him "Not here."

"Where?" he repeated.

"Let go of the door."

"Only if you promise not to slam it in my face." He said calmly. The girl didn't respond. She continued to glare at him. "Please," he said, "Just tell me if Selena's all right."

"Why shouldn't she be?" the girl challenged, "Why do _you_ care?"

The question caught Bruce off guard, leaving him at loss for words. But what surprised him more was the knowing look in the girl's eyes.

Amanda had meant it as an attack, to see Mr Wayne flinch, but it went wrong. She felt tears welling up, threatening to spill and she turned away, missing any reaction he may or may not have had. She took a deep breath and held back the tears, stubbornly refusing to let them fall. She turned and marched back into the house.

Behind her, Bruce pushed the door open fully and followed her in.

It was him. She knew it. Bruce Wayne was Batman, he was her father. He had the same eyes as her, he was tall, strong and handsome, he even had the same nose as her. She recognised his voice; he spoke differently as Batman, harsher, but she'd heard him drop that tone to speak with Catwoman the night before, and she'd called Batman 'Bruce'.

Bruce was Batman, she knew it, and if he was any kind of detective he had to have realised that she knew. She glance over her shoulder at him quickly and snapped at him to shut the door behind him.

His behaviour indicated that he obviously had no idea who she was. As if to prove that thought, he asked, "Who are you?"

She almost snapped 'you're the World's Greatest Detective, figure it out yourself!' but she held it back. She was about to answer him, but reconsidered that as well: her mother had kept her a secret for 15 years, why tell him now? But then if she didn't tell him he probably _would_ figure it out himself, and if she told him at least she could see his reaction.

. . . or lack thereof: he was a playboy after all.

Then again, he'd come by at six in the morning to see if Selena was OK: he cared about her.

Amanda's warring thoughts resulted in her simply glaring at Bruce while he looked on expectantly. He placed a hand on her shoulder and asked gently, "What's your name? Do you know who you are?"

Amanda yanked her arm free. "Of course I know who I am!" she snapped, "I'm just surprised _you_ don't!" He didn't say anything at all, didn't portray any emotion and Amanda's tongue ran away with her. "My name's Amanda." She growled, "Amanda Katrina Kyle. I'm 15 years old, born nine months after you had a fling withCatwoman, _Batman_." She spat his name at him, hoping to find satisfaction in his shocked look, but instead grief swelled up in her chest.

She sniffed and turned away. "My mother was murdered this morning, so if you'll excuse me I need to create a cover story."

Bruce placed a hand on her shoulder, "Amanda-"

She shrugged him off and a sob escaped her. Her hands went to her face and she fled into a bedroom, almost tripping on one of the cats on her way and slamming the door behind her.

Amanda collapsed onto the floor in sobs, sitting up and hugging her knees. He wouldn't want her, he didn't have space in his life for her: he already had a partner. She told herself she didn't care. In her misery she was convinced Bruce Wayne didn't have room in his life or his heart for any daughter. He probably had heaps of children to heaps of different girls, all who lived with their mothers and didn't have anything to do with their father.

That must be why Selena had kept Amanda a secret: to avoid her having her heart broken when she looked for the love of a father.

Amanda was alone now. She had to survive on her own and keep her mother's identity a secret. Catwoman had tried her hardest to go clean, but between her lack of money and slight kleptomania she had never stopped completely.

Amanda knew many of Catwoman's contacts, and her mother had trained her well. She would become Catwoman. If Catwoman lived on, no-one would link her to the dead Selena Kyle. Amanda stifled her sobs, she needed to think of a cover story, but she couldn't focus. She hadn't slept, she couldn't think straight. . .

The door was pushed open and she didn't need to look to know who it was. "Go away!" She yelled at Bruce, then whispered to herself "You don't want me, just go away."

She felt a hand on her shoulder and he knelt down beside her. She shrugged him off and he removed his hand, but didn't go away. "Amanda," he whispered, "Let me help you." She sniffed, but didn't move. "Amanda," he said firmly and placed his hand on her shoulder again, "If you are my daughter, I will be your father. If you're not, I will do my best to make sure you're cared for. I'll arrange the funeral, and I'll search for your father for you if you like."

Amanda sniffed, then whispered, "Why?"

"I know what it's like to lose parents." Bruce replied, "And no child should have to go through that and be left to fend for themselves." After a pause, he added, "And I loved Selena. I had no idea that she had a child."

Amanda sniffed angrily, "You didn't try to find out!"

He remained infallibly calm, "I didn't have any reason to: she gave me no reason to suspect anything."

Amanda nodded miserably, absently stroking one of the cats, until suddenly, being unable to hold it in anymore, she suddenly burst into tears. Bruce seemed a little shocked, but patted her on the back and tried to soothe her. She turned and sobbed onto his shoulder, crying: "It's my fault, it's all my fault!"

"What's your fault?" Bruce asked calmly.

"She's dead!" Amanda wailed, and between sobs, managed to explain: "I-I brought her back here . . . to g-get her out of d-danger . . . but I could – I couldn't help her . . . and . . . and she's dead and . . . it's all my fault!" she started to cry harder.

Bruce shook his head. "It's not your fault." She kept crying and sobbing that it was and he shook her gently. "Amanda." He said sternly. "Listen to me. If you had left her there she would have died much sooner: Penguin set off several bombs in that vicinity less than four minutes after I saw Catwoman last. There was no way I could have gotten her out of the way if she was still there."

Amanda's hysteria lessened to a few hiccupping sobs and sniffles. She looked at him, listening.

"And if you'd taken her away from the fight and waited for an ambulance, she would have died before they got there: police didn't allow anyone near the area until about two hours ago, until the fight was well and truly over."

Amanda sniffed and looked away.

Bruce placed a hand on Amanda's shoulder. "At least you were able to be there for her."

Amanda sniffed again and stood up. "She's over here." She led him out of her room and to the small living area. Selena's body was lying near the window, covered in a sheet. Bruce knelt next to her and gently pulled the sheet off.

Selena's skin was pale and cold, her dark hair a stark contrast against the deathly white. Her face looked serene, like she was sleeping, but the bloodstained bandages covering the ugly wound on her chest broke the illusion. Amanda had changed Selena out of her Catwoman costume and into some baggy pants and a low-fronted top which left the wound uncovered. Medical supplies were scattered all around Selena and the open first aid kit that sat nearby.

"Have you called anyone?" Bruce asked.

Amanda shook her head. "The electricity's out." She sniffed. "I tried to call an ambulance as soon as I got home. Before she died, I ran to several neighbours, three shouted at me to go away before someone told me the electricity for the whole building isn't working." She sniffed again. "I came back here and tried to help, but-" her voice caught and she broke off.

Bruce placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'll make a call in a minute." He said, "But, do you need help with a cover story?"

Amanda sniffed and nodded weakly.

The policeman was calm and friendly, albeit a little surprised to be sitting across from Bruce Wayne. He listened quietly to Amanda as she haltingly told the story they'd come up with, and patiently waited for her when she stopped to blow her nose or wipe her eyes.

Amanda told him, with help from Bruce, that she'd woken up during the night to the sound of a scuffle in the living room. She'd gone to see what it was and found her mother wrestling with a burglar. The man was, supposedly, wearing a balaclava and so Amanda didn't see his face, and she couldn't remember much about him because he quickly pulled out a gun and shot Selena then jumped out the window. Amanda told the rest the way it had actually happened, saying that she tried to help her mother but it was futile and she the power was out to the whole building so she couldn't call an ambulance.

That part was the hardest, and Amanda had to keep stopping to steady her voice. She ended by telling the cop that her mother's final words were to tell her that Bruce Wayne was her father. Understanding dawned on the policeman's face as she said that and he glanced at Bruce, who was comforting Amanda and appeared not to notice.

Everything after that was a blur for Amanda. She remembered Bruce telling the policeman and then a social worker exactly what he told her: that he had no idea and would accept Amanda as his responsibility even if she turned out not to be related. The issue about custody was practically brushed aside: Bruce insisted that Amanda shouldn't be left alone and nor should she be dumped into some foster home or government care facility, so he insisted on taking her home with him until it was discovered whether or not she was actually his daughter.

Amanda was asked for a DNA sample and she let someone take a swab from her mouth. She couldn't keep track of the time, but it all happened very quickly. Selena's body was taken away in a body bag, and then Amanda was alone with Bruce, preparing to pack up everything she owned so she could move out of the apartment, and stay at Wayne Manor at least until it was discovered who her father was. Amanda had just grabbed out her suitcases when more people arrived. She didn't want to see any more people. She wanted to be alone more than anything.

It was Bruce's butler who entered the apartment, briskly walking in and politely informing Bruce that he had a meeting to attend, and then telling Amanda that he would return to 'assist' her. She didn't know what to say, and then someone else walked into the apartment – Tim. Probably one of the last people she would have expected to see, having completely forgotten that he was a ward of Bruce.

Tim smiled at her warmly. "Hey." He said quietly, "How are you?"

Amanda stared at him dumbly, suddenly feeling extremely tired and drained. She looked away. "Not too good." She mumbled.

He gave her a slightly understanding smile. Bruce left with the butler, leaving Tim standing in the living room and Amanda sitting dumbly in front of the suitcase. After a little while Tim asked what she needed help with and quickly set to work helping her clear out the apartment.

Tim tried to make small talk, but Amanda was half-zoned out of reality. Half the time she didn't hear him, and either way she couldn't bring herself to talk, so he left it alone and they packed in silence.

It was a small task for Amanda to pack her bag, seeing as she only had a few things in her Gotham home, most of her things were still in her Blüdhaven apartment seeing as she'd only been coming for a short visit. She was going to move in with her mother the next month, but now . . .

She moved on to Selena's room and began filling her mother's large, rarely used suitcase: starting with all of Catwoman's gear, wanting to get it out of the house first in case anyone were to check the place and find it somehow.

Everything was bleary and dull, she couldn't focus. Amanda hardly noticed when Alfred came back, and the next thing she knew she was snapped back to reality to find herself sitting in an empty bedroom with Alfred calmly informing her that everything was out and it was time to go.

She left in a daze.

Amanda didn't even notice Wayne Manor. She didn't register anything on the trip between the apartment and her new current residence until suddenly found herself stepping out of the car, not being able to remember the drive. She didn't try to remember, but then she blacked out again to find herself standing in the doorway of a large bedroom, with Alfred patting her on the back before walking away.

Amanda stood there for a while, staring, but not really registering the huge room, massive four-poster bed or antique furniture. It looked like it belonged in a museum, not a home. She stared for a while longer, before stumbling over to the bed and collapsing on top of it, falling asleep almost instantly, but remembering wishing so very hard that she could just wake up again to find it had all been a dream.

**Authors note: Sorry if it was a bit flat. I'll try my hardest to get a new update in ASAP and bring in some action. :)**


	4. Different

**Authors note: **

**Disclaimer: Don't own nothing. **

**Chapter 4: Different**

Amanda woke up lying on a strange large bed, disoriented, sad and confused. It took her a moment to remember where she was . . . and what had happened. Her chest became heavy with grief but she didn't feel as confused and messed up as she had before.

Her bed was crowded with cats, half a dozen in total. Four of them were curled up, fast asleep, another was busy licking itself but stopping frequently to swat at the other, which was sitting smugly beside Amanda's head, tickling her nose with his tail.

Amanda realised she was lying on top of the bed, still in her clothes, and someone had placed a blanket over her. Someone had also shut the door to the room – she wasn't sure whether it was for her privacy and so she could sleep undisturbed, or whether it was to keep the cats in. Either way, two of the other three cats seemed to be convinced that the door was there purely to antagonise them and were yowling at it, begging for it to be opened.

As Amanda came to her senses she realised she'd been hearing their noise for quite a while. She rolled onto her side and stared at the two cats. They were the two which she owned personally, and both were pacing back and forth and trying to best each other in a screaming contest. Amanda rolled off the bed and shuffled over to them, scooping them up, mumbling: "Oh, hush up you silly fur balls."

Before opening the door she glanced around to locate the last cat, finding it sitting on top of the cupboard like a bird on a perch. She left the room, shutting the door behind her, and wandered aimless down the huge, red-carpeted hallway.

She found her way to the living room, where Tim was planted firmly in front of the TV.

"Good morning." He said absently, his eyes not leaving the screen. The smaller cat in Amanda's arms – Ditz, she called it – squirmed free and ran to the couch, attempting three times to jump up before Tim picked it up. It promptly curled up on his lap and started purring proudly, pleased to have conquered this great being.

"Morning." Amanda mumbled and sat on the opposite side of the couch.

Tim glanced at her sideways, "I was just saying that 'cause I always do. It's actually after 1 o'clock, Bruce should be up soon."

"It's a Monday, why aren't you in school?" Amanda said.

"School's closed for today, some mobsters firebombed it last night – such a shame, I know. But, _naturally_, Alfred and Bruce have insisted I still do schoolwork at home. It's Tuesday, by the way."

Amanda glanced at him, then at the cartoon he was watching. "Yeah, this looks a lot like schoolwork. . ."

"Oh, I finished that this morning. Still sulking though." He grinned at her and focused back on the screen. "So, how are you?" he ventured.

Amanda's face fell. "Surviving, I s'pose. Haven't really had a chance today to think about it…" Her chest suddenly felt very heavy, and empty. Tim offered a reassuring smile and petted the kitten on his lap.

Bruce entered the room and smiled at them. "Afternoon." He said, and sat on an armchair. He glanced at Amanda, "How are you?"

"Doing fine."

He sat silently for a moment, before saying, "There aren't a dozen cats running around the house, are there?"

Amanda shook her head, "I locked them in my room, except for these two."

They sat in silence for a while, watching the stupid cartoon, until Tim tried to break the silence. "So…" He ventured, "How many cats have you got exactly?"

"Nine." Amanda answered. "Coco, Ditz, Vader, Sushi, Fang, Fuzzy, Uno, Buzz Lightyear and Mr Snookums."

"Wow." Tim mumbled.

"They're not all mine." Amanda said, she motioned to the very pregnant brown one on her lap. "This one's Coco, and that one's Ditz." She motioned to the grey tabby kitten who'd claimed Tim as a cushion. "They're mine. Vader, Sushi and Fang were Mom's. The rest belong to other people-"

One of Tim's eyebrows went up. "Do you mean to tell me Catwoman stole _real_ cats as well?!"

Amanda gave him a funny look, but it faded into sadness. "No, she ran a cat-sitting program. This probably the most we've had at any one time. I should probably call their owners."

"Please tell me the pregnant cat is someone else's." Bruce said in what Amanda assumed was his form of a joking tone.

"No, that's Coco. She's mine, personally. Ditz was from her last litter."

Bruce didn't look very happy about that, but Tim was grinning.

"Are they fixed?" Bruce asked sternly.

"_What_?!" Amanda snapped, "Of course not!"

"You'll have to get them fixed." Bruce stated.

"No way! That's horrible! How could you suggest such a thing!"

Tim's eyebrows shot up and he smirked. Bruce sighed and opened a newspaper.

Amanda spent the day trying to ignore the pain inside her by sorting through all the stuff from the apartment, deciding what to keep and what to get rid of. She discarded some of her own clothes and kept some of her mother's that fit, but overall reduced the amount of clothes she had, despite the massive amount of closet space – most of her favourite clothes were still in Blüdhaven anyways. She kept some of the Catwoman costumes, ditching the more flamboyant ones as well as all the stiletto heels, and the entire arsenal stayed.

She was starting to get hungry when someone knocked on the door. She was about to tell them to come in when she noticed that three of the cats had their noses pressed against the door, ready to make a break for it and explore the mansion.

"Hold on," she called and scooped up the cats. "Come in."

The door opened a crack and Tim stood there. "Hey, Alfred says to tell you dinner's ready."

At his words, Amanda's kitten jumped off the bed and made a dash for the door. "No, Ditz." Amanda said sternly and put her foot in the way. The kitten skidded around the obstacle and bumped into the wall. "I'll be down in a tic." Amanda said to Tim, who smiled amusedly and shut the door. "Crazy fuzz-bucket." Amanda said to Ditz and scooped him up as well, before plonking all four cats on the bed and slipping out of the room, shutting them in.

Dinner was a simple, quiet affair that took place in a massive dining hall at a ridiculously long table. Tim was sitting at the head of the table as though he were a king, and on either side of him sat Bruce and Alfred. They were already helping themselves to food that was piled in the centre of the table like a mini-buffet. Feeling lost, Amanda sat down quietly next to Alfred.

It was a quiet meal, and was finished quickly. Amanda was headed up the stairs when the doorbell rang. She hardly heard it, and paid it no heed until she heard someone say her name. She headed to the front room and was intercepted by Alfred.

"Master Bruce wishes to see you."

He led the way to a room which could have been a study. Bruce sat on an ornate cushioned chair at one end of the room, across from him was a man Amanda did not recognise. At a gesture from Bruce, Amanda sat on another fancy chair next to his.

The man spoke, "Hello Amanda, Mr Wayne, I'm Sergeant Jack McGrath. The hospital has run tests on your DNA, and there's no doubt: Amanda, you are Mr Wayne's daughter."

It wasn't a shock. Amanda nodded. "Thank you, Sergeant McGrath." She said.

He shrugged, "You're welcome, but that's not the only reason why I'm here." He paused and took a breath, "We have found a man we suspect may be your mother's killer, and we would like you to come down to the station tomorrow to identify him."

Amanda nodded and agreed before leaving to go back to her room. She scowled, feeling miserable inside. They may have found a criminal, but he was certainly _not_ the one who killed her mother.


	5. The Villain

**Authors note: Thanks for your reviews guys, so sorry it's taken so freakin long, had a bit of writers block (OK, a lot…) and then the dreaded **_**exams**_**….. but here's the next one, hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own nothing. **

**Chapter 5: The Villain**

It was midnight. The Dynamic Duo were off doing their thing and Alfred was nowhere to be found. Amanda hadn't even noticed when they had vanished: she'd holed herself up in her room after the Sergeant had left, and when she'd come out at eleven the house had been empty.

She was fine with that. She huddled on her bed with the cats crowded around her, drowning in a turmoil of emotion and memories. Many of the events that flashed into her head were happy memories of good times with her mother, but they didn't make her happy: they made her more miserable, placing emphasis on every little thing that had been ripped away from her by the Joker.

She'd tried to stay strong all day, refusing to dwell on anything, keeping herself busy, refusing to break down . . . but now, she was alone. Completely utterly alone, in a huge, empty mansion that was not her home. It was a shell, a cage . . .

Unable to hold it in any longer, she cried. She wept and grieved and howled, screaming 'Why?' at the chandelier and sobbing into her pillow. Several of the cats freaked out and fled across the room, but she didn't care. The black cat, Vader, pushed himself under her arm and licked her cheek, and stayed there to comfort her in her misery. Vader had been her mother's favourite, and the thought made Amanda cry harder, until her tears ran dry and she'd exhausted herself into falling asleep.

Alfred drove Bruce and Amanda to the station early the next morning. They were lead into a room where they could look through the one-way glass at the suspect. The officer at the station was telling Amanda all about the man's crimes, their suspicions. Bruce was paying close attention but Amanda was only half listening.

She stared at the man: he was in his thirties, short, skinny, filthy and dressed in rugged clothes. He didn't look like a criminal, and he wasn't obnoxious or anything either. He looked to be someone who'd been forced into the life of crime, as many in Gotham had.

The officer was still talking. ". . . he pleads innocent to the murder charges, but we believe he's the one. He's been breaking into apartments near where you and your mother lived."

Amanda shook her head. "It's not him."

The officer looked at her sternly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She said quietly, "It's not him." She wasn't about to charge murder on someone innocent of it, and so what if he was a thief? Her mother was . . . had been . . .

"You said he was wearing a face covering, are you certain it can't be him?" The cop insisted

"It isn't him." She said again, "He's too short, the killer was taller."

"And you're certain?"

"I'm certain."

The cop dismissed her, and she left. Bruce placed a hand on her shoulder. "Good girl." He sounded somewhat pleased that she'd made the right decision. He needn't have worried: she wasn't going to charge the crime on anyone, but the real murderer was going to pay, and she'd make sure of it.

Bruce went off to work, leaving Amanda with Alfred. The rest of the morning was spent looking into funeral preparations, and by the time Alfred was convinced they'd done enough for one day it was getting into the afternoon. He drove Amanda back to the Manor and she was, once again, left to her own devices for the afternoon.

She spent most of the time watching TV with Tim, who was once more pleased to have the day off school. Amanda hardly noticed when Bruce returned, or when the light faded and the curtains were drawn closed against the night. She stared at the large TV screen, but hardly noticed anything that was going on in the digital world. She felt completely hollow, empty.

The doorbell rang.

Alfred dutifully left to open the door and a moment later Amanda heard him exclaim: "Ah! Master Richard! Such a pleasant surprise! Please, do come in."

Amanda brushed it off as just another average visitor as Bruce stood abruptly and exited the massive living room, intercepting the person just outside the doorway. Amanda resumed her staring but started when a familiar voice asked:

"How is she?"

Amanda leapt out of her seat as Dick Grayson strode into the room, a smile lightening his features when he saw her. "Amy!"

"Dick!" She dashed over and threw her arms around him, relieved to see a familiar face. She found herself crying onto his shoulder, in return he hugged her tightly. He was the closest thing to a big brother she had, she'd known him for about three years, since he'd moved into the apartment next to hers, and they'd practically adopted each other the moment they'd met.

He held her and consoled her until her tears subsided and she regained her composure. She sat back down, wiping her eyes and he sat next to her, having to pick up Amanda's cat and put it on his lap to do so.

Abruptly, Bruce stated. "You knew."

Dick looked at him, "Knew what?"

"That she is Selena's daughter."

"Yeah." Dick said, then after a pause, asked "Didn't you?"

"No." Bruce said simply. "I found out on Monday."

Dick raised one eyebrow, "Really?"

Bruce didn't bother to reaffirm his statement, instead he asked, "Did you know I'm her father?"

Dick's other eyebrow joined its buddy. "You're her father?!" he exclaimed.

Amanda sniffed, "For someone so smart that was a really dumb question."

"Well, Selena told me your father was a man from Central City," Dick said, "and made me swear not to tell you." He glanced from Bruce to her and back, "Did _you_ know?"

"No." Bruce said simply as Amanda shook her head.

"Mom told me before she . . . died." Amanda said. "We had it confirmed last night."

Dick hugged Amanda sympathetically and she sniffed, grateful to have someone she knew there with her.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For coming, it means a lot."

"Of course I'd come, Amy." Dick said quietly, "I know what it's like, you need your friends in times like this."

"Thanks."

It was late. Once more, Batman and Robin disappeared to the streets of Gotham and Alfred had vanished. Dick had retired to his room at about the same time that the Dynamic Duo had left, saying he wanted an 'early night' so he could drive back Amanda to Blüdhaven in the morning to clear out her apartment.

Amanda had tried to go to sleep early as well, but had been completely unable. Her mind was spinning, her emotions out of control. She cried into her pillow quietly, acutely aware that Dick was in the room next to her and not wanting him to hear.

After a few minutes her tears subsided and she sat up and turned on the light, picking up the closest cat and hugging it tightly. Her thoughts quickly turned from what she'd lost to the villain who'd caused it all.

_Joker_.

He was still out there, the cops and Batman were all looking for him but he'd vanished. He'd strike again, kill more people, make more people feel the misery that was drowning her . . .

Unless she found him first.

With sudden determination Amanda slipped out of bed and opened her wardrobe, and began silently pulling out several of her mother's old outfits and her entire arsenal. She found one costume that fit well and wasn't as ridiculously revealing as Catwoman's last outfit and paired it with tall black boots and gloves that had clawed tips to help with climbing, and grabbed the utility belt she'd used before, refilling her arsenal and taking a few extra weapons, including Catwoman's trademark whip.

Then she quickly put away the rest of her stuff and snuck out the window. It would take too long to walk or even run all the way into the city, so she nicked Tim's bicycle and sped off towards the city, wishing that Bruce had a more central home. She realised she probably should have worn civilian clothes until she reached the city. Catwoman riding a bicycle would probably make a funny sight – or at least a very noticeable one. But she didn't care.

She rode fast, carelessly, with only one thought on her mind: she was going to find the Joker.

And she was going to kill him.


	6. Bonding

**Disclaimer: Don't own nothing. **

**Chapter 6: Bonding**

Dick drove Amanda to Blüdhaven the next day, and she slept most of the way. They arrived at the apartment building late in the morning. The landlady was sympathetic and kind: she was a nice, older lady who'd always been friendly with Amanda and Dick. Bruce had called ahead and dealt with all the finances and whatnot, all that was left to do was clear out the apartment.

It wasn't a big task, despite almost everything belonging to the apartment. Even though almost all of Amanda's belongings were in the apartment, there wasn't a huge amount to pack up.

It took about three hours to pack up everything she owned into two boxes which Dick packed into the backseat of the car. She said goodbye to the landlady and then they were on the road again.

They drove in silence only broken by the radio playing quietly. Amanda noted that Dick looked like he wanted to say something, but he stayed silent, so she stared out the window. She was having trouble keeping her composure, struggling to not think about her mother . . .

"Dick?" Amanda found herself saying, "How did your parents . . . you know . . . ?"

He stared ahead for a moment before replying, "I grew up in Haly's Circus, you know that, my family and I, we were all acrobats, the Flying Graysons . . . when I was a kid we came to Gotham, and Tony Zucco, the crime boss, tried to extort 'protection' money from the circus. When Haly refused, Zucco had his people sabotage the circus. The highwire broke in the finale of my family's act, they all fell."

"What happened to Zucco?" Amanda asked.

"Batman told me he was dead, and I believed him. I later found out he'd lied, that Zucco was still alive and I was furious. That's why I moved to Blüdhaven."

"So Zucco's still alive?"

"No, he passed away shortly afterwards, peacefully."

Amanda sat silently for a moment before asking: "Are you still mad at Bruce?"

Dick didn't answer for a while, his jaw tightened, and then he said, "No." He paused again before adding, "I looked back on it and realised the logic in his lie. It may not have felt like the best option when I found out, but I know now that it was for the best. Besides," he glanced at her and smiled, "I never would have met you if it hadn't happened."

Amanda nodded slightly and resumed staring out the window.

Dick focused on the road again, but frequently glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

Bruce returned to the Manor in the evening after his last meeting for the day. He found Amanda sitting in front of the TV, eyes glazed and unseeing, her face portraying the same blank emotionless look that it had for the last few days.

He left to find Alfred, who firmly suggested that he talk to Amanda.

He found her again in the exact same position as she'd been before, and he sat down on an armchair nearby. She didn't seem to notice.

"Amanda." He said after a moment.

Slowly, almost robotically, Amanda turned her head and looked at him silently.

Unsure of what to say to her, he said: "School opens again tomorrow, I expect you'll be well enough to attend?"

She stared at him blankly, before replying "I'm '_well enough_', which school am I '_attending_'?"

"Your enrolment in East Gotham high has been terminated and you will be attending Gotham Academy with Tim."

"Great" she said flatly and resumed staring at the TV.

Bruce tried to start a conversation. His first few attempts failed, eventually he managed to get a few words out of Amanda in reply, but the conversation quickly turned to the nine cats running about the Manor and the possibility of that number multiplying. Amanda had been very blunt and unmovable in her opinion.

"No."

She was certainly her father's daughter.

Once Dick left for his room and the other occupants of the house vanished, Amanda once again donned her costume, wearing civilian clothes on top and leaving the mask off for the time being, she once again snuck out her window and borrowed Tim's bike, speeding off towards the city, hiding it and her clothes once she'd reached a central enough place.

Joker had many hiding places, only a few of which had been discovered previously. She doubted she'd be able to find him that night: she had no clues as to his whereabouts, and the night before had yielded nothing that was helpful, but she didn't care. She would find the Joker on determination alone if she had to.

She made her way to the scene of the crime, the place where Joker had shot Catwoman. It was the last place he'd been seen, but the cops had no leads. Batman probably did, but she wasn't about to ask him. She scoped out the scene instead, tracing Joker's movements until he vanished.

For a madman, he was surprisingly stealthy. She knew how dangerous he was, Selena had told her many times to never underestimate him, but Amanda had always assumed it was because he was unpredictable and completely insane.

People never seemed to think that someone so crooked in the head could be a genius.

Amanda had to wake up early in the morning to go to Gotham Academy with Tim. He was surprisingly chirpy about going back to school, despite complaining about it for the last few days, but Amanda was not. The day went by slowly, and nothing of any interest to her occurred. When they arrived home in the afternoon Tim dashed upstairs straightaway but Amanda headed towards the living room when she heard her name mentioned. She found Bruce deep in discussion with Dick.

"I'm uncertain about this," Bruce was saying, "She's . . ." he broke off with a quiet sigh and looked up at the ceiling, as though trying to bring his thoughts together, "She's-"

"_She_ is right here."

The two of them looked up and saw her. Bruce dropped his voice and gestured at Dick, who reluctantly moved closer.

Amanda growled, and muttered, "That was your cue to include me in the conversation, not move away and talk quieter!"

Bruce glanced at her and ushered Dick out of the room. Amanda huffed and stormed to her own room, annoyed, knowing they were talking about her and any attempt to eavesdrop would easily thwarted: Bruce _was_ Batman, after all.

Bruce shut the door to his study, checking to make sure Amanda hadn't followed them. He turned to Dick, who was waiting patiently, one eyebrow just slightly raised in an almost imperceptible questioning look.

"Dick," Bruce said quietly, "You know Amanda well, don't you?"

Dick nodded, "She's lived in the apartment next to mine since before I moved there. I gave her training in acrobatics."

"Well, Dick," Bruce said, "you know her best, would you be able to talk with her? I'm not sure how to deal with a teenage girl."

Dick smiled wryly, "Almost the same as a teenage boy in some areas." He said, "One thing's for sure, they're heaps more paranoid about people talking behind their backs." He gave his mentor a pointed look. "Bruce, _you_ need to talk to her. She needs her father now. I'll speak to her, but not in your place: that's _your_ job." He moved towards the door, but paused with his hand on the knob, "And I suggest you talk to her soon, otherwise she'll be out of her mind wondering what we were saying behind her back."

Bruce found Amanda in her room, surrounded by her cats and talking on her mobile phone. The door was open, but he was relieved to see that the cats didn't seem to be wandering out of the room. Bruce knocked on the door post, but Amanda ignored him, instead continued speaking into the phone.

"Yes I can." She said, "Two weeks' time? Yeah, that's fine, don't worry, I was just letting you know. OK, call me when you get back, otherwise I'll ring on the Friday. All right, goodbye." She snapped her phone shut and glanced at Bruce. "What?"

"Uh . . . How was your day?" he asked.

She glared at him. "You're yapping about me behind my back and then expect me to engage in a 'normal' parent-to-child conversation? What's so important that I can't hear, huh?"

He rolled his eyes to heaven. "Look, I don't know how to deal with girls . . . particularly grieving, temperamental teenage girls . . ."

"So I'm a temperamental problem, is that it?"

"Amanda." He said sternly, "You're not a problem. Get that thought out of your head. I-" he paused and took a step into the room, "I . . . want to get to know you, Amanda, and I don't want you to feel alone. I just . . . I never planned for this-"

"So I _am_ a problem!"

"No." he said firmly, "I never expected that I would suddenly have a daughter, who needs their mother, and needs their father . . . and, and I don't know how to help you."

"Maybe you could start by actually acknowledging my presence every once in a while." She snapped and looked away. He didn't say anything, and when she looked up he was gone.

Dick cornered Amanda about an hour later.

"Please don't tell me you want some sappy one-on-one talk as well." She snapped.

"Nope." He said cheerfully and grabbed her hand, hauling her up off the sofa. "I want some quality training time."

"What?" Amanda asked in surprise as he dragged her down the hall. "Why?"

"You've hardly done anything but mope around these last few days. It will do you good to burn off some steam."

Amanda tried to pull away "Dick, my mom just died, I don't really want to be training."

"I know." He said gently, "Neither did I when my parents died. But sitting around and moping all day will get you nowhere. So we're going to train."

"What if I don't want to train?"

"Amanda." He looked her in the eye seriously, "You may have forgotten that you qualified for the state championship."

Amanda crossed her arms and looked away. "What if I don't want to do it anymore?" she said quietly.

He turned her gently so she was looking at him again. "It's three months away." He said quietly, "You may change your mind between now and then, and if you don't want to do it at a later date, then I'm not going to force you. But right now, you're grieving, I know, and you may not want to do it, but you're still going to train. It may make you feel better." And with that he dragged her down an unfamiliar hallway to a massive gym Amanda hadn't even known existed.

She trained for hours. Reluctantly at first, but then she got into it and was glad for the distraction, for the exercise. When Dick finally allowed her to stop, she sat down on the bench with a towel and a water bottle and glared at the floor as her emotions returned to oppress her. "So," she mumbled, "What was so important that you had to talk about it behind my back?"

Dick looked at her silently for a moment before saying, "Bruce just wanted some advice."

Amanda snorted. "What, you couldn't think of a proper lie?"

"I wasn't lying."

"Yeah right. _Advice_, seriously? He's _Bruce_."

"When have I ever lied to you?" Dick asked earnestly.

She didn't respond.

"Amanda, he's the Batman, he's got a backup plan for his backup plans, he's the great Dark Knight, World's Greatest Detective . . . _but_ . . . he had no idea you existed, and he had no 'plan' for dealing with you. He's been chucked into the world of being a parent and he doesn't know what he's doing."

"He parented you, and Tim."

"He planned us. He knew what he was doing when he brought me home, but still then he was unsure. Alfie raised me more than he did. In fact, we hardly spoke until I became his protégé. Now, I'm not saying that you're an unplanned problem, because you're _not_! Selena loved you, and Bruce is trying . . . but he's used to dealing with everything using detective skills and a few quick punches. When it comes to children, he has no idea. Even after me and Tim and . . ." he faltered for a second, but Amanda didn't notice, "and even after raising us, he still has no idea." He finished quickly.

"How do you know." Amanda sniffed.

Dick smirked and tapped his head, "I'm a detective too." Then he grew serious again, "But it doesn't take a detective to see it. Plus, he told me. That's what he was talking to me about."

Amanda hunched her shoulders, "Yeah? Well why'd he have to be so secretive?"

"Because he's so used to being right, to having everything under control, he doesn't want to admit it . . . he has a reputation of being invincible, _he_ needs to think he's invincible. But when it comes down to it, he doesn't know what he's doing, and he hates that. He thinks he has to figure it all out. On his own." After a pause, he added, "That's probably the biggest problem Alfie and I have had with him all this time."

Amanda huffed. "Still doesn't give him the right to do that. Talk about me behind my back, and be so _obvious_ about it!"

"I know. And I'm sorry." Dick hugged her, then added, "I _did_ try to tell him that."

Catwoman skulked down a street adjacent to Crime Alley, searching, but not sure what she was looking for, until she bumped into a group of thugs.

"Looking for trouble, kitty-cat?" one of them snapped. They all wore strange, but familiar outfits, with one half dark, rugged and filthy and the other neat and pale. Two-Face's goons.

Adopting her mother's silky tone Amanda replied, "Why yes, actually I am. The Joker kind of trouble, however, so if you don't mind . . ." she made a motion to slip past them.

One of them grabbed her arm, "Not so fast: the Boss wants a word with you."

"Sorry," Catwoman replied slowly, her voice dripping with fake concern, "But my schedules all booked. He'll have to call back at another time, thank you for your _kind_ offer, however."

He pulled her closer, and growled "we wasn't asking."

She smiled sweetly and said, "Such a shame, then." Then clawed his face.

He yelled and let her go, his hand flying to his bleeding cheek, as the other thugs rushed at Catwoman. She ducked under the first blow and kicked her heel into the thug's stomach, sending him lurching backwards, winded. She suddenly figured that her mother must have worn stilettos because they doubled as knives on her feet . . . She brushed that thought aside, grabbed the shoulders of the winded thug and flipped over him, kicking two thugs while she was in the air before landing on her feet and throwing the man she'd leapt over, knocking him unconscious as he struck the ground.

She leapt at the next man, kicking him in the gut, turning him round and using him as a body shield as the others pulled out their guns: the body she was holding jerked spastically as it was riddled with bullets. She stole the man's gun and shot back at the other thugs until they were all down, writhing on the ground. Then she dropped the body and continued calmly on her way.

The sound of the hammer of a gun being cocked came from behind Catwoman and she whirled around, pulling out her whip and flicking it at the thug who'd appeared behind her. The whip clipped the gun and he dropped it, then collapsed, unconscious.

She hadn't knocked him out: she hadn't hit him. She stared suspiciously at the bins which he'd hidden behind, but there came no other sound. So she turned and dashed away, continuing her search elsewhere.

**Authors note: Didn't have a clue for what schools were in Gotham, so I stole a page out of Young Justice's book. Don't hate me for it :) Please Review. **


	7. Catwoman

**So sorry it's taken so long, I forgot I hadn't posted this yet…**

**Anyway, hope you like the chapter. (Hope you're all still **_**there**_**…) please enjoy, and **_**please**_** review!**

**Chapter 7: Catwoman**

As she frantically rode Tim's bike back to the Manor Amanda firmly told herself that the night was not completely fruitless. She forced herself to acknowledge that finding another empty clown-house meant that there was one less empty clown-house to find. She forced herself to believe that somehow she was getting closer to avenging her mother. Plus, she'd discovered that Two-Face was after her, for whatever reason. That had to account for something.

Regardless of what she told herself, however, she still felt like she'd gotten nowhere. She made it back to the mansion and hurriedly stashed Tim's bike. She'd pushed it too far, stayed in the city too long. Unless they'd been suddenly delayed Batman and Robin would have returned almost five minutes before. She just hoped that no-one had felt the need to check in on her, if they looked too closely they'd be sure to discover that it was a pile of pillows under the blankets and the cats on her bed, rather than her. She was counting on Bruce's hatred of the cats to keep him away.

Brimming with barely-contained anger and frustration, Amanda quickly scaled the vines growing on the outside of the house and slipped through the window to her bedroom. She skulked across the room and had just removed her boots when she heard someone walk down the hallway. She froze when the footsteps stopped in front of her door. She quickly but silently tucked the boots under her bed as she heard Dick's voice from the hallway say wearily, "Bruce?"

Amanda quickly and quietly crawled into bed, forcing the cats who had claimed it to make room for her.

"Is she asleep?" Bruce asked quietly from beyond the door.

"Soundly." Dick said, "She went to bed hours ago."

"You should be in bed too." Bruce grumbled, "Don't you have to leave early in the morning?" Amanda frowned, Dick was leaving? Then she remembered him saying something about heading back to Blüdhaven for the day to work, promising to be back by nightfall. "Go to bed." Bruce growled to Dick.

There was a pause and Amanda froze, hoping they'd go away. Fearing that Bruce would actually open the door and find her half out of bed, wearing suspiciously Catwoman-like clothes and obviously not asleep. And then Bruce began to turn the knob. She hardly dared to breathe for fear that he could hear that she was awake.

Then she kicked herself, realising that if he could hear her, not breathing was a dead giveaway that something was up. So she made a small moaning noise and rolled over, pulling the blankets over her so that her body and most of her head was completely covered. Then she breathed deeply and evenly and willed herself to sleep.

The door opened and Bruce looked in on her. She could practically _feel_ him staring. Then he shut the door again and she heard his footsteps retreat. And then she heard Dick walk back to his own room. Amanda opened her eyes slightly and glared through her lashes at the door. She waited for what felt like an eternity before crawling out of bed again and silently getting changed, stashing her Catwoman costume and slipping back into bed wearing her pyjamas.

That was _way_ too close.

Knowing that Bruce suspected something was daunting, but Amanda refused to be put off her quest. The next night she snuck out again and resumed her search, more determined than ever, but more conscious of the time.

She was tracing down another lead on yet another possible hideout of Joker's when, once again, she found herself cornered by a group of Two-Face's thugs. They were armed, one of them slapped a metal bar against the palm of his hand in a threatening manner. "Who do we have here…" he growled, "The Boss wants a word with you, Miss Kitty. You're coming with us."

"Sorry, Honey." Catwoman purred, "But if he wants to ask me out he's going to have to come here and do it himself."

The thug's face twisted into a snarl and another man pointed his gun at her. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way." He said firmly.

"Why is it you always feel the need to ask that?" Catwoman replied, calmly leaning against the wall. "You know what my answer will be." Before he had time to react, she leapt at another one of the goons, knocking him out in one swift movement before leaping at another man.

She heard a shot go off, and someone groaned to her left as another man shouted, belatedly: "Don't shoot!" She guessed that meant Two-Face needed her alive so he could kill her himself. The thugs refrained from drawing their firearms, which put them at an even greater disadvantage, seeing as their guns were their primary weapons. Amanda held nothing back. She channelled her rage through every hit as she blurred through their pack, and all too soon it was over.

Catwoman turned back to look at her work, noting the bodies scattered throughout the alley, several writhing in pain but most still and unconscious. There were a lot of them, she hardly would have thought there was so many while she was fighting. And then she noticed several still forms lying further up the alley.

She hadn't knocked them out. She certainly hadn't stayed in one place, but her fighting had not ranged that far up the alley. Suspicion sprang forth in her mind, and her already super-tuned senses became even more alert. Someone else was out there.

Nightwing watched from the shadows as Catwoman looked back to briefly survey her handiwork before turning around and dashing off. He silently followed her.

Soon enough, Catwoman was confronted again. The thug fixed his gun on her from behind and ordered, "Freeze, right there!"

Catwoman turned around and gave him a sweet but sly smile. "Oh, come off it. We both know you're not going to shoot me. You're boss wants me alive, doesn't he?"

Nightwing clenched his teeth, _Jeez, Amanda. You can't bluff your way through everything!_

"Boss want's you alive: he didn't say nothin' about puttin' holes through your legs."

Catwoman's smile didn't falter. "Well that's not very nice." Before she'd even finished speaking her whip had flicked out and caught him in the wrist. He yelled and dropped the gun. But before she could attack him another thug had leapt at her from behind. She turned to face him and fought him off. He held his own, but Nightwing could see Catwoman had it sorted. His eye was drawn to two more goons sneaking through the shadows further up the alley. They remained hidden as Catwoman fought their comrade, and they trained their weapons on Amanda.

Wraithlike, Nightwing slipped through the shadows and leapt at them, quickly knocking them unconscious and then retreating to his hiding place to continue watching over Amanda.

She was gone.

The two thug's she'd encountered lay unconscious on the ground, but she'd already moved on. Nightwing quickly took to the rooftops and followed the path Amanda had been taking, hoping to catch up with her before she took a different direction. He hadn't gone far when a voice behind him spoke:

"I thought you were supposed to be sneakier than that."

He whirled around to find Catwoman behind him, calmly leaning against a rooftop wall, half-hidden by the shadows. "And I thought you were supposed to be stealthier than that." He walked towards her, raising and eyebrow, "I mean, seriously, three confrontations in two nights by the same gang of thugs? That's just careless."

"Why are you following me?" she snapped.

"Because." He said calmly, "It would be mutually beneficial."

She glared at him, "How?"

"You've got less chance of being killed by sneaky thugs like them, and I don't have to stay back worrying that you'll get yourself killed by sneaky thugs like them." He motioned to the men he'd knocked out.

Catwoman continued to glare at him, "I have it sorted." She growled, "You don't need to get involved."

"I already am involved." He replied calmly, "So I might as well stick around."

"I don't need any help." She snapped.

"Well, I think I'll give you a hand anyway. Or, more specifically, a ride. You'll have heaps more time to work if you didn't have to ride Tim's bike all the way into Gotham and back."

Catwoman huffed, "Yeah, you might as well just tell Batman everything while you're at it."

"I don't need to," Nightwing replied calmly, "he's standing right behind you."

"What!?" Amanda exclaimed and whipped around. There was no-one there. She faced Nightwing again, and his cheeky grin almost made her feel normal for a second. "I hate you." She grumbled. His grin just widened. "You can't tell Batman." She said seriously.

Nightwing became serious. "I'm not going to blab on you, you can trust me."

"You should just leave me alone." Amanda mumbled, "If he finds out I don't want you getting in trouble for 'aiding and abetting' or whatever."

"Why would I get in trouble?" Nightwing asked calmly.

"Because Batman won't agree with what I'm doing."

"And that is…?"

"Looking for Joker." She growled.

"The cops and Batman are all looking for Joker," Dick said rationally, "why's that so bad?" He was pretty sure he knew what the answer was, but he needed to hear it from her.

"Because they'll only lock him up again." Amanda replied, then growled with steely determination: "I am going to kill him."

Nightwing nodded.

"You'd better not try and stop me." Catwoman growled.

"We'll deal with that if when we find Joker." Nightwing replied, "But for now, I'll sleep better knowing that you're not out getting yourself killed."


	8. Gone

**Heyo again. Here's the next one, hope you enjoy it. (Sorry if it's a bit too sappy, I'll try bring in some serious action in the next chappy.) **

**Please review!**

**Chapter 8: Gone**

Amanda rode the bike home again and this time the Dynamic Duo had not yet returned when Amanda snuck into her room again. However, Dick was waiting in her room already wearing his pyjamas, sitting on her bed with no less than three cats trying to claim a space on his lap and one with its paws on his shoulders, looking like it was preparing to jump onto Dick's head. Amanda closed the window behind her and kicked off her boots.

Everyone in Wayne Manor was woken up at one o'clock the next day by Alfred, and they all prepared for the funeral that afternoon. The men all wore black suits, and Amanda had wanted to as well, but Bruce – and Dick, who was the one who actually convinced her – insisted she wear a dress. So Amanda grudgingly complied and set about locating a black dress. She eventually found what she was looking for, a black dress that had belonged to her mother, the only one which wasn't as tight as a glove and actually had a skirt. The moment she found it amongst her mother's things, her annoyance faded away as it seemed to suddenly sink in that her mother was gone forever: Amanda was putting on one of her mother's dresses to go to her mother's funeral.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks before she realised it, and she soon found herself curled up on the bed sobbing quietly, hugging the dress to her chest with one arm and smothering one of the cats with the other. Eventually her tears subsided and she sat up sniffling. There came a gentle knock on the door, three soft taps, she knew instantly that it was Dick. "Come in." She mumbled weakly and the door swung open gently.

Dick stepped into the room, "You OK?" he asked quietly.

Amanda nodded numbly and swiped at her cheek. "Dick?" She asked weakly.

"Yeah?"

"When does the pain go away?" she looked over at him, her wet, red eyes meeting his. Her hard, serious gaze had faded away, her walls washed away by the tears so her eyes had become gateways to her soul, portraying all her sadness and confusion that she'd been keeping bottled up and hidden.

Dick walked over and sat beside her on the bed, pulling her into a tight hug. "It gets better." He said quietly, "But it takes time. You need to remember her for the good things: focused on the time you had with her, rather than what you lost."

"But I can't!" Amanda sobbed into his shoulder, "If I think of her, even if I think of the good things . . . I always end up missing her!" one of the cats crawled onto her lap and she automatically began petting it, "I can only think about the fact that she's gone, that she was taken too early!"

Dick hugged her tightly and stroked her hair as she cried, offering silent comfort, which Amanda was grateful for. She felt that if he tried to tell her everything was going to be OK, she'd feel infinitely worse. But Dick didn't. He just hugged her until she stopped crying and sat up straight, catching her breath and wiping her eyes. Feeling somewhat better. "At least I have you." She said quietly, her eyes closed she leaned against him. Her lip started to tremble again as another thought occurred to her, "A-at least until you have to go back to work…"

Dick squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, then said, "Actually, when I went back to Blüdhaven the other day my request was officially passed through and I've been officially transferred to Gotham. I'll start work tomorrow at the GCPD."

At this news Amanda brightened a little and opened her eyes, "Really?"

"Yeah." He said, "I completely moved out of my apartment. It's definitely a long-term thing."

Amanda sat up straighter. "Thanks, Dick." She said quietly.

"No problem." He said, and Amanda could swear she heard a smile in his voice so she looked at him and actually laughed. He was literally covered in cats. Two had claimed his lap with another two trying to join them. Ditz the kitten was perched on his shoulder licking his ear and another cat was trying to find the motive to climb onto his other shoulder while Darth Vader was sitting behind him and methodically head-butting his back. He smiled at her and absently petted one of the fuzz-balls.

Amanda smiled and stood up. "Thanks, Dick." She said again, then grabbed the dress and headed into the bathroom. She emerged a few minutes later wearing the dress, black stockings, a short black coat and her dress pair of black combat boots to find Dick still sitting on her bed, still covered in cats.

The funeral was a small affair, and didn't last long. Amanda couldn't help but morbidly think that after all the bother and effort that went into preparing for it, it was rather pointless. She told herself off for thinking that way, but what was she supposed to think? She couldn't feel happy, and she could find no appreciation for the ceremony. She knew she should appreciate it, but what was the point? To let her mother go?

Amanda didn't want to let her go.

The rest of the afternoon Amanda spent in a daze, retreating far deep into herself and hiding from her emotions. She spent most of her time either sitting in front of the TV, staring without seeing, or wandering aimlessly about the house with any number of cats tailing her. At one point when she was sitting alone in the lounge, Alfred approached, and proper as ever asked: "Would you like some cocoa, Miss Amanda?"

She mumbled a no, and he left, but a few minutes later returned regardless with a mug of steaming hot cocoa and a cookie and set them on the coffee table within an arm's reach. He gave her a fatherly pat on the shoulder, then left.

It was about seven o'clock when Amanda was yet again aimlessly wandering the halls of the Manor and Dick approached her, calling her name when she ignored him.

"Hey, Dick." She mumbled wearily.

He slung an arm around her shoulder in a brotherly manner, "What are you up to?"

"Nothing." She mumbled.

"Great!" He said cheerily, steering her firmly down the hall, "I was just looking for a sparring partner."

"I'm not in the mood, Dick." Amanda tried to shrug his arm off, but he didn't let her go.

"Au contraire," he rebutted flamboyantly, "I think you need to do something, and I most certainly _am_ in the mood for a quick match!"

"Dick…" Amanda complained, but he'd steered her into the gym before she managed to push him off. "I don't want to spar."

"Yes you do."

"No, I don't!" Amanda snapped and tried to push past him.

He gently pushed her away from the door. "Nup, sorry. I'm getting my sparring match."

"Dick, I'm not in the mood. I want to go to my room." Amanda complained.

"Fine." Dick said, "You can leave." She took a step towards the door and he blocked her way. "You'll just have to go through me, first."

"Dick, I'm not fighting you! I want to go to my room!" She tried to push past him but he gently pushed her back.

"You can go back to your room, I won't stop you." He smirked, "At least, I won't stop you once you've made it out the door."

"Dick!" she shoved past him in annoyance.

He grabbed her shoulder and flipped her around so he was between her and the door again. "I'm not going to change my mind. You'll only be in here longer if you don't put your fists up or something."

"Dick," she whined, "I really don't–" midsentence she brought her knee up into his groin.

Or at least she tried, he stepped to the side and turned so she missed him completely. "Good!" he said, smiling, "Distracting me with your talk and starting with a surprise attack! I like that tactic! You almost had me." Amanda had already launched a vicious series of attacks, all of which he dodged easily. Then she suddenly feinted one attack, but instead of following through with an actual hit like he was expecting, she made a dash past him at the door. However, his moment of surprise didn't last long enough for her to escape. He grabbed the hood of her jacket and pulled her backwards and off-balance before quickly swinging her around, tugging the hood far over her head and kicking her behind the legs.

Amanda found herself sprawled on the floor with her hood over her eyes before she even knew what had gone wrong.

"And that's why I stopped wearing a cape." Dick said cheerfully. She didn't even pause before she leapt at his legs, intending to knock them out from under him but finding him surprisingly immovable. She was left sprawled at his feet, hugging his knees like a small child while he stared down at her with a bemused smile. "Well, that was _very_ effective."

Amanda spun around him and yanked his legs out from under him. He fell forwards, but whatever victorious feeling Amanda might have had was gone before she had time to celebrate, because Dick easily landed on his hands, kicked his legs apart and broke free of her grip before rolling over and back onto his feet. Amanda leapt at him but he was faster, stronger, and far more experienced. Amanda's frustration that she couldn't land a hit turned to rage, and she committed everything to her attack, but Dick still avoided her.

She was getting nowhere, but she still persisted. Until he suddenly flipped backwards a few times so he was now too far away for her to continue her assault. She stopped short and glared at him, breathing hard. She knew what he was doing. He'd decided that her attacks were doing nothing, so he was forcing her to take a different approach. He smiled cheekily, waiting to see how she would proceed.

Amanda's brain suddenly kicked back into gear as she noted the room around her. They'd moved to the centre of the room, and the exit was behind her. Her eyes narrowed into focus on Dick and she changed tactics. She took a defensive stance and paced around a little, waiting for him to attack first. He paced a little as well, but didn't attack. He was waiting for her. She looked for an opening to attack him, but he kept up his defence. He did not move closer to her, but she slowly, fractionally widened the distance between them, and then abruptly turned and sprinted for the door.

Dick's smile dropped in surprise and he moved to chase her, but she was out of the room and down the hall before he'd taken two steps. He sighed in exasperation.

And then Amanda appeared in the doorway again, looking serious but a little sheepish. "I want a rematch."

They sparred for an hour or so before calling it quits. The workout and friendly banter had left Amanda feeling much more refreshed and cheerful. She and Dick walked out of the gym breathless and sweaty but smiling. They headed to the kitchen and were sitting at the table drinking hot cocoa when Tim came in.

"Geez, where've you guys been?"

"Gym." Dick said simply and shoved four marshmallows in his mouth, turned to Amanda and mumbled: "Chubby Bunnies."

Amanda shoved four marshmallows in her own mouth and repeated the phrase, then added another and said to Tim "We wah shpawing."

"Aw, really!" Tim sounded genuinely disappointed, "Why didn't you invite me? I've been bored stiff?"

Dick shrugged and Amanda glared at him suspiciously, popping another shmallow in her mouth, "Yah, woi noh? You sheh you wah looh-ing foh a shpawing pah-nah!"

Dick gave her a funny, quizzical look and said very seriously: "Chubby bunnies."

Amanda swallowed her mouthful and said accusingly, "You said you needed a sparring partner and that's why you wouldn't let me leave! Why didn't you just ask Tim?!"

Dick smiled, shoved the marshmallows into the corner of his cheek and said clearly, "Because _you_ needed it." He let that sink in for a moment before picking up several more marshmallows and adding, "And I think I won chubby bunnies too."


	9. 9 Schooled

**Author's note: **

**So sorry it has taken me THIS long to write an update. I literally only had an idea to finish this chappy yesterday! Whew! **

**If you guys have anything you want to see happen in this story please let me know! I'm running a little low on ideas at the moment and any input would be greatly appreciated!**

**Hope you enjoy, please review!**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Schooled**

Clad once more in her dark outfit and mask, wearing her black utility belt stocked full of various weapons and devices and with her mother's favourite bullwhip hanging from her hip, Amanda shoved some spare blankets and pillows under the doona on her bed, petted the collection of snoozing cats and slipped out the window to her room. She scaled down the vines that crept up the side of the manor and ran as soon as she was on solid ground again. She raced along the side of the road leading to town, and once she was about half a mile down the road she heard the sound of a motorbike roaring after her.

A quick glance over her shoulder assured her of the rider's identity, and she didn't change her pace. The motorcycle slowed as it drew level with her and Amanda leapt onto the back, wrapping her arms around the rider's waist.

"Sup, sis." Nightwing said casually, "Working hard?"

She poked her tongue at him, then it occurred to her he couldn't see. "Does that Batbike not come with helmets?" She asked mockingly.

"It's a _bird_bike." Nightwing corrected smugly, "and helmets are overrated."

"Right." Amanda drawled, "You keep telling yourself that when you're lying in a hospital bed with a broken neck."

"I will, thanks." He said casually, and accelerated away, musing to himself, "Maybe it's a _Night_bike, or a motor_wing_ . . ."

"Please stop."

* * *

Two-Face's thugs homed in on Catwoman within twenty minutes. There was more of them this time, hoping to overwhelm her with numbers. Unfortunately for them, they weren't expecting to find Nightwing as well. Most of them didn't have guns, having exchanged them for other less-lethal weapons in hopes to bring in Catwoman alive, and this left them at a severe disadvantage. Seconds into the fight, and they were already losing terribly.

Nightwing bashed two thugs' heads together and glanced at Catwoman, "Nightmotor?" he suggested, "or Motornight?"

"Is this some sort of game to you?" Amanda snapped.

Nightwing grinned at her, and cheerfully socked a thug in the jaw. "What gave it away?"

Amanda jumped onto one man's shoulders, "They're terrible." She swung around, got her feet on the ground and threw the man into one of his comrades.

"Nice." Nightwing commented, and swept the feet out from two thugs, then finished them off with two quick blows from his eskrima sticks, which had appeared in his hands without her noticing. "Oh, I know! The _Night_cycle!"

"Sounds like a sleeping pattern." Amanda replied, unimpressed, and she sent a high kick into one guy's chin and clawed another's face.

"How about the '_Wing_cycle'?"

"A function on a washing machine." Amanda retorted.

"Or the 'Cycle_wing_'."

"Sounds like a bad pun. 'You should really avoid cyclewing to school. Cyclists are hit by cars more often than pedestrians you know.'"

"What are you even talking about?!" one of the thugs hollered as he leapt at Nightwing with a crowbar. Nightwing whacked the guy under the chin with his stick, and at the same time caught the man's weapon, stole it from him and threw it. It slammed into the head of another thug and knocked him out cold. Nightwing, his fighting sticks suddenly gone, grabbed the shirt of the dazed young man who'd jumped at him and waved a finger in front of his face and tutted, "Now, now, it's rude to eavesdrop on other people's conversations, and even ruder to butt in like that." He turned to Amanda as she finished off the last two assailants and called, "So now what?"

"Knock him out and we'll keep going." She replied curtly.

"Aw, but I've got a better idea." Catwoman glanced at him curiously as he turned back to the youth he was holding up by the collar, "All right," he said in mock resignation, "You caught us, now whereabouts are you taking us?"

The kid frowned in confusion and wet his lips worriedly, "What?"

"You're s'posed to be taking us to Two-Face, right? Well, where is he? We might just find the time to pay him a visit."

He blinked, and said again, "What?"

Nightwing sighed, and went to speak again but Catwoman interrupted, "What are you doing?" She hissed, "Aren't we fighting these guys so we _don't_ have to pay Two-Face a visit?"

"Well, yeah." He replied, then faced the thug again, "So where is he?"

"He's working out of a base on the East End." The young man replied, "But I don't get it. Why would you-"

"Wow!" Nightwing turned to Catwoman with a wide-eyed expression, "That was easy." He turned back to the thug, "You'd better not be lying."

"Why should I?" the kid replied with a sigh to his voice, "You'll just hurt me."

"Great deduction!" Nightwing replied cheerily, "And here I thought I was the detective! Whereabouts in East End?"

The kid spouted the address.

"Thanks." Nightwing bopped him on the head and dropped his unconscious body on the ground.

"Are you nuts?!" Catwoman snapped, "I didn't just fight off all those thugs trying to take me to Two-Face, just to walk over by my own free will!"

"That's okay, you don't have to." Nightwing replied calmly and started tying up the thugs. "But now if you _want_ to find him instead of him finding you, you have an address." He glanced at their informer, "Unless he was lying. But I don't think he was."

"_Why_ would I want to waltz over to Two-Face's?" Amanda snapped, "Especially after going through all this trouble to stay away from him?"

Nightwing shrugged. "He might have something on Joker. Besides aren't you curious about why he wants you so bad?"

Amanda hesitated, "No."

"Liar."

They secured the last gangster and started walking back towards Nightwing's motorcycle.

"How about the Wingwheels?"

"That is _terrible_."

...

* * *

...

The mornings were always the worst, Amanda had discovered. She had always hated mornings, and now even more so. She hardly ever woke up in a good mood, especially not when she was tired from lack of sleep and a night out as Catwoman. Practically every morning she rolled out of bed, trapped in a cloud of depression that no amount of cat cuddling could dispel. She miserably dressed for school, grumpily donned her fancy Gotham Academy uniform, and trudged downstairs, complaining loudly about having to wear a skirt.

Dick and Tim were sitting across from each other at the table, right at the centre of the mile-long wooden thing. Both were wearing their uniforms, Tim in his Gotham Academy blazer and Dick in his neatly pressed Gotham City Police Department garb. Dick was nursing a mug of coffee, Tim was bent over a bowl of cornflakes, shovelling them into his mouth while trying to speed-read through a book.

Amanda moodily plopped onto the seat next to Dick, mumbling a half-hearted "good morning."

Tim mumbled what she assumed was a reply around a mouthful of cornflakes and Dick commented:

"All right, next time we play chubby bunnies, Tim's joining in too." Tim shrugged. Dick forced a frown, "Actually, nah, it still wouldn't be fair. He sucks just as bad as you do."

Tim made an indignant noise, went to say something and nearly choked on his mouthful.

Dick sniggered. Amanda hardly noticed. She jumped when Alfred appeared out of nowhere and placed a plater in front of her. Two slices of toast, buttered hot and smeared with raspberry jam, accompanied by a mug of steaming cocoa.

"Good morning Miss Amada." He greeted her warmly and petted her on the shoulder. She blinked dumbly and managed to mumble a thank-you and a greeting. How had he known what her favourite breakfast was?

He turned to leave and Dick called, "Hey, Alfie! Don't suppose you're any good at chubby bunnies? These two offer no real challenge."

"Hey!" Tim replied indignantly, having finally finished his breakfast and looked up from his book. "No fair, I am the chubby bunnies champion!"

Dick scoffed, "You are not. I will whip your butt!"

Tim poked his spoon at Dick, "I challenge you to a chubby bunnies duel!"

Dick grinned, having successfully baited his little bro. He had to physically restrain himself from cheering at his victory. Instead, he managed a sly grin and cheekily accepted the challenge. "You'll join us, won't you Alfie?"

Tim looked at the butler, wide-eyed, "I don't think I've ever seen Alfred eat a marshmallow, much less eight at once."

Alfred raised one eyebrow at him. "I accept your challenge, Master Richard. And Master Timothy, I believe you must have already lost if you can only manage eight at once." With that he breezed out of the room.

Tim's mouth fell open, and he turned to Amanda with a look of astonishment and whispered in mocking awe, "Alfred has played chubby bunnies before!"

Amanda shrugged and took a bite of her toast.

"Amanda?" Tim asked, "Are you okay?"

Amanda shrugged again, chewing morosely.

Dick nudged her with his elbow, "Cheer up, Amy. It's only school. I'm sure it's not the worst thing that could happen."

She fixed him with the most withering glare she could manage.

He applauded her. "Now _that_." He said, nodding solemnly, "Is an _excellent_ Batglare." She glared harder and Dick leaned in and whispered, "Just don't look at Tim. You'll make him cry."

"Hey!" Tim kicked at Dick under the table. Or, tried to. He missed as Dick stood up, smirking and poking his tongue at him.

"Gotta go!" Dick said merrily, "Law and order awaits. Have fun at _schooooooool_." He wiggled his eyebrows at them and waltzed out of the room, laughing and easily dodging the spoon Tim ditched at him.

Naturally, Alfred walked in just then and gave Tim _the look_. "Master Timothy, please refrain from using the cutlery as projectile weapons."

Tim grinned sheepishly and scurried to pick up the spoon.

Bruce walked in with a cup of coffee, and if Tim hadn't already finished his cereal he would have choked on it again. "What are you doing up so early?!"

"Good morning to you too." Bruce sat down across from Amanda. "Morning Amanda."

She glanced at him and mumbled a greeting. At least he hadn't tried calling her 'sweetie' or something. He tried to make conversation, but Amanda finished her breakfast in silence, drained her cocoa and left. Bruce sighed and sipped his coffee.

Tim glanced between Bruce and Amanda. "Is . . . something wrong?"

Bruce ran his hand through his hair. "I don't suppose you're familiar with the workings of a teenage girl?"

Tim raised an eyebrow, "You're kidding, right? I'm about as clueless as they come. I can't even manage to get myself a girlfriend, why are you asking _me_?"

Bruce shrugged and glared at his coffee. After a moment he glanced up at Tim, who was flipping through his book again. "Don't be late for school." He said curtly.

Tim nodded absently without glancing up.

* * *

Four and a half minutes later, they were on their way to school, sitting in the back of the car. Tim still with his nose buried in his book, Amanda staring gloomily out the window. She glanced at Tim, watching as his eyes skimmed over the pages, mumbling to himself.

"Good book?" She asked eventually.

"No." he replied immediately, still reading, "It's dull and ridiculous and I was supposed to read this chapter last night, but . . . um . . . yeah."

"What stopped you?"

"Penguin, actually." Tim replied, then glanced up to make sure Alfred hadn't overheard, or at least wasn't about to chide him for skimping on his homework. If Alfred had heard, he didn't let on.

...

* * *

...

Amanda hated school.

Well, at least, that's what she told herself, all day, every day. She made no effort to get to know anyone, to find any sort of pleasure in her studies or classes. The teachers were patient with her, and pleased at least that she wasn't a troublemaker. They didn't seem to mind her being so antisocial so long as she did the work. She'd signed up for gymnastics, at Dick's insistence. As much as she told him she didn't want to do it anymore, she couldn't deny that gymnastics was one thing she really did enjoy, and might make school a little more bearable. She hadn't been to any of the meets yet, but had one that afternoon.

And then there were the people. Oh, she hated having to deal with the people. She was sick of preppy popular girls and prissy rich kids and jocks who thought they were so tough and all that. Tim just glided through the halls like a breath of fresh air and everyone seemed to love him. He wave at everyone, greet people, smile all the time, give high fives and fist-pumps where appropriate or whatever and just generally exude an aura of cheery friendliness. Or at least, he usually did. Today he gave a half-hearted effort and wandered around with his face in that stupid book, quickly finding a bench to park himself on to try and finish the chapter before his first class of the day.

Amanda tried her hardest to be invisible. She believed she was moderately successful. Second week of school and almost everybody had taken the hint and studiously ignored her. She was especially grateful that the novelty of being in the same school as 'Bruce Wayne's Daughter' had worn off and people had stopped cornering her for random reasons regarding it and calling her 'Amanda Wayne'.

It didn't matter how hard Bruce had tried to keep it quiet, the whole of Gotham had seemed to find out within hours of him taking custody of her that Bruce Wayne had just found his long-lost daughter.

Amanda slumped into class and planted herself in her seat near the back. Sitting in her own little world and pointedly ignoring the other students that meandered into class.

"He-ey!" someone called. They said the word with two syllables. Amanda immediately pegged them as a brat. She would have ignored them as well, if the girl hadn't been standing right in front of her, hands on her desk, leaning _way_ into her personal space bubble and trying to choke Amanda with the scent of strawberry shampoo.

Amanda glared up at her through thick, black bangs, "What?" she snapped. Usually, that was enough of a hint and people would leave her alone.

The girl flicked her luscious blonde hair over her shoulder and stood up straight, rolling her eyes. "Oh puh-lease." She scoffed, resting a hand on her hip, "Drop the act, honey. We all know you're just looking for attention."

Out of the corner of her eye, Amanda could see that most of the other kids in the class were now watching, either blatantly staring to trying to surreptitiously peek while pretending to do something else. Amanda glared at the girl, then bent to retrieve a book from her bag. She opened it, pulled out a pen and pointedly ignored the other girl.

The girl scoffed, "So, what you're just going to ignore me?!"

Amanda glanced up at her again, setting her jaw. "Did you have something intelligent to say?"

Someone in the class snickered. Amanda sent a glare in that direction. The other girl huffed in offence. "Ugh! Excuse me?!"

Amanda glanced back at her. "By all means." She said coolly, "You're excused. Feel free to leave."

The girl huffed again, turned on her heel and marched back to her seat.

It was at least a few hours before someone tried to talk to her again, and that someone was Tim. He slid into the seat beside her in the chemistry lab and said, "Whew! Man did I nearly get chewed out by my teacher!" he glanced at her with a twinkle in his eye and just kept talking, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "So, I didn't manage to finish the chapter and made the mistake of continuing to read it in my English class, and the teacher caught me . . . but, guess what?"

Amanda glanced at him, "You told her you'd already read it three times and loved it so much that you just had to read it again." She guessed dryly.

Tim's eyebrows went up, "Hey, how'd you know that?!"

Amanda frowned, "Wait, I was right?"

Tim nodded, grinning, "That's actually almost exactly what I said. Only I told her I'd read it only twice, and I was totally joking though, everyone knew that. But, get this, teach totally doesn't get sarcasm, and somehow she'd missed all my complaining about the stupid book, so she believed me! She chucked a few questions my way, but they were based on stuff earlier on in the chapter that I'd already read, I answered them!" He was struggling not to laugh now, "And, get this!" a small snort of laughter escaped him, and he chuckled, "the last question was on the line I had _literally just read_! So I _quoted_ it to her and now she's convinced I'm some sort of super genius kid who . . ." his face suddenly fell, and he groaned, "who loves Pride and Prejudice. . ." he moaned at the ceiling. "Aww man, now she's gonna expect me to get an A+ on the essay . . ." He pretended to cry.

Amanda stared at him, "Did you seriously only realise that now?"

He shrugged sheepishly. Amanda rolled her eyes at him.

"He-ey!"

Amanda groaned and rolled her eyes to the ceiling at the familiar voice.

"Well, well, if it isn't young Miss Wayne!" Tiffany slipped into the seat on the other side of Amanda. She saw Tim and batted her eyelashes at him, "_Ohhhh!_ Hi Tim!" she said with fake surprise and way too much enthusiasm.

"Um, hey." He glanced between Amanda and Tiffany, slightly confused.

"What do you want?" Amanda snapped.

Tiffany leaned away from her, appalled, "Amanda, sweetie, that was _toooo-tally_ uncalled for! Why are you being so _rude_?"

"What do you want?" Amanda repeated.

"I just want to make friendly conversation!" Tiffany gave her a sweet smile.

"And what if I find your 'friendly conversation' invasive and irritating?"

Tiffany rolled her eyes and leaned over Amanda's desk, "So _Tim_ . . ." she drew out slowly, "How did you two meet?"

Tim looked completely nonplussed, "Um . . . she's kinda my _sister_ . . ."

Tiffany's eyes widened in fake surprise, "_Whaaat?!_ No _way_! How did that happen?"

"Like you don't know how that happened!" Amanda snapped.

Tiffany ignored her and smiled sweetly at Tim, "You know, I totally thought you two were an item! _Bu-ut_, if you're _not_ . . ." she batted her eyelashes at him.

"Uhhh . . ."

"Get off my desk." Amanda growled.

Tiffany leaned even further over her desk, and gave Tim a nauseatingly saccharine smile. "_Soo_, Timmy," she drawled, "If you're not already tied up, how about taking me to the dance?"

"Um," he tried to discretely lean away, "What dance?"

She giggled, "The one next week, silly!"

"Uh, no thanks, I-"

"Aww, come on Timmy, it'll be-"

"You heard him." Amanda snapped, and shoved Tiffany off her desk.

Tiffany gasped, "Oh my goodness, don't _touch _me!" They immediately became the centre of attention to everyone who wasn't already spying on their little conversation. Amanda glared at Tiffany as the blonde stood up abruptly, looking at the teacher and exclaiming "Oh my goodness, Sir, did you see her, she totally just pushed me for no reason!"

Amanda clenched her fists and felt her face heating up with rage. Tim placed a hand on her arm. "Calm down, Amy." He whispered, "She's not even worth it."

The teacher looked at Tiffany in exasperation. "Sit down, Miss Parker."

Tiffany tossed her hair with a huff, marched to the other side of the room and sat down, her friends following her and sitting nearby. Amanda yanked her book out of her back, snapped it open and buried herself in chemistry notes.

* * *

Amanda managed to go the rest of the day without seeing that annoying drama queen known as Tiffany Parker. But her bad mood did not wear off. She walked into the gym after school, ready for the gymnastics meet, and froze in the doorway. There, on the other side of the room, stretching and warming up, was none other than the annoying blonde from before. Then Tim appeared beside her, linked arms with her and pulled her through the doorway, saying, somewhat triumphantly: "Ha ha! Too late to back out now!"

Amanda silently followed him, once more electing to ignore Tiffany. She and Tim proceeded through their warm up and stretching and managed to stay on the opposite side of the room to Tiffany until the coach called them together.

Of course, before the coach could say anything, Tiffany exclaimed, "Why is _she_ here?"

The coach calmly gestured to Amanda and introduced her, "This is Amanda Kyle. She'll be joining us for training from now on."

Tiffany scoffed, "Can she even _do_ anything?"

"Miss Parker, if you don't mind." The coach said, crossing his arms.

"Seriously!" Tiffany exclaimed, "I can't believe you'd make us train with such a loser just because her father's so rich and important-"

Amanda crossed her arms and glared at her, "You're an idiot."

Tiffany gasped in offence, "Ex-_cuse_ me! Who do you think you are? You can't just-"

"Look." Amanda snapped, "I did _not_ ask to become part of some stupid soap opera drama! I'll spell it out for you: _Leave. Me. Alone!_"

Tiffany crossed her arms, "Ugh, as if I'd train with an _idiot_ like _her_ who doesn't even know what she's doing! I mean seriously-"

"Hey Tiffany." Tim interrupted, "You know how we all went to that little competition last Sunday?"

Tiffany gave him a look, "Are you _serious_?! Of _course_ I remember: I was _there_! And it wasn't a _little_ competition! It was the _Regional Championships_ and-"

"Amanda won."

Tiffany froze with her mouth hanging open, "Uh, _what_?"

"Amanda is the girl who won." Tim repeated, "So lay off already."

The coach sighed, "_Anyway_, if you don't mind-"

"No _way_!" Tiffany exclaimed, interrupting him again. "There's no way a loser like her managed to _win_! And I am _not_ training with-"

"Oh, don't worry!" Amanda snapped, "I'm not going to intrude on your stupid training!" She turned and marched away.

"Amanda!" Tim called after her, glaring at Tiffany. "Wait!"

"No." Amanda snapped. "I'm not putting up with _that_ for a whole hour! I'll train at home with Dick."

"Oh my goodness!" Tiffany exclaimed again. That phrase was being severely overused. "Well, you're just an attention-seeking little bitch! So what? You're gonna run home and cry to your mommy? Oh wait! You don't have one!"

Amanda froze.

"Tiffany!" Tim exclaimed, straightening angrily.

Amanda turned and marched back towards the group.

"Ooh," Tiffany taunted, "Did I make you angry? What are you gonna do about it? Complain to your rich and powerful daddy and get him to-"

Everyone in the group gasped, Tiffany's eyes rolled back into her head and she crumpled to the floor unconscious as Amanda socked her in the jaw.

...

* * *

...

Bruce sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "This is serious, Alfred." He said, his voice deep and quiet. "And I'm not sure how to deal with this."

"It is an admirable quality that you are able to admit that, sir." Alfred replied calmly.

Bruce let out a short, dry laugh – more of a huff, really. "I wish I could just call in back-up. But who? Dick already has his work cut out for him – and he's fantastic – but it's not enough." Alfred did not reply, and there was silence for a moment before Bruce propped his elbows up onto the table and dropped his head into his hands with a moan. "I honestly have no idea what to do." He mumbled.

Alfred stood silently for a moment before suggesting calmly, "Perhaps you should try _talking_ to her, Master Bruce."

Bruce's head snapped up, "Of course I've thought of that Alfred. And I've _tried_, but she's so . . ." he appeared to struggle to find the right word.

"Temperamental, sir?" Alfred offered.

"Yes! And she doesn't even seem to be there most of the time: I try and talk to her and she doesn't even see me, and when she _does_ acknowledge me – and even goes so far as to attempt to engage in conversation, she will withdraw as soon as I try and actually _talk_ with her . . ."

"I see."

Bruce growled at himself and his head flopped onto his hands again, fingers tangling themselves in thick, black hair. "I sound like a teenage girl myself." He growled, "Whining about my problems. . ."

"Perhaps at some point we all act somewhat like teenage girls, Master Bruce. At least this means you really are a normal human being at heart."

Bruce glared at him, "You're really not helping, Alfred."

"I thought it was quite profound."

Bruce sighed again, and there was silence for a moment before he exclaimed, "But the _cats_, Alfred!"

"The cats, sir?"

"The _cats_!" He groaned at the ceiling, "There's so many of them, and it's another week at least before _any _of them can return to their rightful owners. And none of them, _none of them_ are neutered! They'll multiply! One is _already_ pregnant! And, Lord forbid, it would just _have _to be her _own_ personal favourite, wouldn't it!"

"Perhaps I could talk to Miss Amanda about the cats, sir?"

"They're everywhere!" Bruce continued, "They get into everything, there's fur all over the place . . . I found one on the chandelier, Alfred! The _chandelier!_ They defy physics! It's a nightmare!"

"Should I have a serious chat with the cats as well, sir?"

Bruce glared at him. "I don't think you're quite grasping the seriousness of this situation."

"Oh, I've grasped the situation quiet well, Master Bruce." Alfred replied calmly, "Perhaps you should consider the possibility that you need to try a different approach."

Bruce groaned, "Like what?!"

"I thought you would never ask." Alfred sat down across from him and leaned forward, "Leave your cowl in the Batcave and talk to her as Bruce, not Batman." He said firmly, "She is your _daughter_, not your mission. You need to focus on building a relationship, and realise that despite your detective skills you will never completely understand her. And you need to understand she is dealing with the same issues you and the boys have all gone through, and Lord knows you can't solve them with a few quick punches."

Bruce sighed. "I _know_ Alfred, but-" he trailed off and sighed heavily. After a moment he stood and went to leave the room.

Alfred rose to his feet as well. "One other thing, Master Bruce." Bruce paused in the doorway and turned to look back at him. "Forget about the cats. Refrain from bringing them up around her. Deal with that issue _later_. You need to be patient with her."

A brief look of horror passed over Bruce's face. "Fine." He said, resigned, and went to leave.

And then, the phone rang.

...

...

* * *

**Author's note:**

**Apologies to any Tiffanys, or Parkers, or Tiffany Parkers out there. I just picked a random name, totally coincidence. **

**Please review.**


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